Leather
by keishixren
Summary: After waiting for Zevran to return to him for two years, The Hero of Ferelden is finally rewarded for his patience. Will their reunion last? Extreme warning pertaining to content.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age: Origins, Bioware does. I'm not making ANY money whatsoever off of this fanfiction.

This is the first fanfic I've ever posted----so be kind to me, please.

***

The sun was nearly set, and I found myself doggedly backtracking that brambly, beaten path. My worries kept me from obsessing over my tired legs, at least. The Circle had been only a few hours away when I had gone to swat an insect from my neck and, much to my dismay, discovered that something quite dear to me was missing from its rightful place in my ear.

At long last, I saw the remnants of my earlier scuffle with a foolish band of scavengers I had caught harassing some poor farmer. I paid no mind to their eerily still masses, spread out across the ground as though they had always been there.

I sprinted, sloshing through damp ground, eager to know the fate of my lost possession. I immediately went about replaying the event in my mind, attempting to recall every inch that I had tread. After remembering an instant where one of the men had managed to get a cheap shot on the side of my head, I searched for where that had happened.

My eyes stuck to a certain puddle like a magnet, and I decided to act on my first whim. I sank to my knees, thinking on what to do. I could have easily evaporated the water, had I any mana left. That was unfortunately not true for me, and I wasn't about to easily resort back to old habits I had kicked. And so, with a weary yet determined heart, I got to searching.

An ugly mix of desperation and panic circled in the pit of my stomach as I scraped through the mud with my fingers. I had no care for soiling my clothes as the filthy water splashed up my gloves. The only thing that was on my mind was finding that which I had lost. It wasn't really that it was worth all that much, not that its material value had ever crossed my mind. It was the only thing that I had to remind me that my affections had been returned. It has to be somewhere, I thought to myself, repeating the words over and over again. A lump grew in my throat just as quickly as the tears had been welling in my eyes. Everything was blurry. Each pebble my nails snagged against made my heart jerk, and after time and time again of disappointment, infantile fury quickly replaced the sadness. My fury had blinded me so completely, I had hardly noticed when something pressed down onto my back.

"Have you lost something, stranger?" I heard behind me. It came from the owner of the boot that was digging into my spine. I stilled, blinking the tears out of my eyes, trying to come to my senses. After a moment, I thought I was imagining the Antivan accent. His name swirled inside of my mouth, but I realized that the shock had left me too dumb to speak. "You know, you are in quite the compromising position. An unarmed mage, face down in the mud."

"_Stranger_, I hope you understand that a mage doesn't need his staff to be quite the threat against your life?" I asked, forcing more articulation into my voice than it deserved.

"Oh ho, that I do know. I _also _know that you lack the energy to do anything other than singe my hair, considering the effort you put into ending the lives of those miserable bandits. Fighting solo does not a good blood mage make."

After laughing in that all too familiar way, he ordered me to my feet. My head spun, nauseating me. My hood was torn back before I could say anything against it. The fear of death was replaced by an anxiety far worse, particularly when I was blinded by a cloth that was skillfully tied around my head. I expected him to bind my wrists with something similar, but instead he held them firmly together with his own hand. The other wrapped around me, playfully pressing a dagger against my cheek. The metal felt terrifying, but I couldn't help myself from pressing further against it as a cat would a loving hand.

My trembling became pathetic as I felt his breath against my neck, whispering. "Is this what you were so desperately searching for, my silly little elf? What could possibly be so important about such a cheap trinket? Hmm?" While he spoke, he pressed something against my lips, rolling it gently back and forth. Immediately, I knew it was the earring. Its silver had been just as cold and enticing as the blade had been. Though I was happy to know of its location, my lips seemed to ignore it in favor of the gloved fingers that held it. He still held the pommel of the dagger in that same hand, carefully keeping the sharp end away from my face. All too soon, he withdrew his hand from me, and I listened as he pocketed the earring.

"If it's so cheap, maybe you should just give it back to me and let me go," I said in a way that would convince no one, trying not to smile. I hissed, sucking in my ragged breath, as the cold sting of the dagger returned to tease my jugular. I leaned away from it, against the shoulder of my attacker, only allowing myself to be exposed further.

"You certainly don't act like you're trying to get away from me. Tell me, do you always prefer to simply submit to your pursuer? My, my, but you are the silly elf. The road is no place for you!" As he spoke, he slowly slid the point further down my throat until it reached my collar bone. "And besides," he said more seriously. "why would I want to let you go? You are a difficult one to find, _my _Grey Warden."

My knees buckled at the sincerity in his voice, pressing as close to him as I could manage. I wanted to devour the lips that I knew were so close, but instead I waited. I sank my teeth into my own, finding it difficult to bear the situation. "_Zevran_," I let escape under my breath, feeling the tears welling up behind my blindfold.

"Zevran? Who is this _Zev-rahn_? Why would someone you know attack you in such a _barbaric _manner?" His humorous attitude was hard to deal with when all I wanted was to confess how much I had missed him.

"I choose the worst lovers; what can I say?" I spat, almost meaning it somewhere in the sentence. I instantly regretted my words, wanting to skewer myself onto the dagger's edge.

"Well, perhaps I can be more than this Zevran fellow, yes? Allow me to prove it to you. Not that you have much of a choice in the matter at this point. Walk," he ordered casually.

Though he tried to continue as though the remark hadn't hurt him, I could feel it in the way he handled me. His grip was less firm. Weak, even. His hands gently guided me as we walked off of the path. Softly, his words warned me of obstacles in my way, mindful of me.

I could hear the crackling of a fire as we went on. Soon I could even feel its warmth through my heavy cloak and feel the flames kissing my cheeks.

I swallowed as he stopped and withdrew from me; standing alone and blind was more terrifying than the dagger against my throat. I listened as he set down my staff and pack. It took me a moment to realize that I could move my hands freely without him behind me, but a part of me didn't want to move them. I kept them behind my back as if he would be happy that I did so when he returned to me. I could have even taken off the blindfold, the thing that was frightening me above all else, but I didn't. Was he waiting for me to do something, I asked myself. I felt like such a fool.

Just before I summoned enough courage to speak, he did so for me. "Take off that cloak you are wearing." As I complied, I gauged that he was roughly three feet from my front, sitting. Even without sight, I felt like I was in a spotlight. The fire was blazing against my back, pushing me forward, it seemed. "And the rest," he continued. I bit into that same spot on my lip, clumsily undoing the buckles around my waist. I lifted the robes above my head and then began to peel off my gloves. I reluctantly bent down to untie my boots, expecting to feel the fire nip at my naked ass as I did so. However, that wasn't the case. Just as my brain was able to process the thought, I felt a hand slither down the back of my thigh. I jumped as though it really had been a snake, nearly toppling over. I smiled at the sound of his laughter, happy to hear it once again, no matter how crude.

"I'm sorry, did I forget to mention that you could leave those on?" he asked, pressing his hips against my backside. The hardness beneath the fabric was all too apparent, and I made the mistake of mechanically pushing back against it. He moved back, denying me the pleasure of grinding onto his hard-on. "Mmm, so eager! What would this Zevran think if he saw you begging for another man's cock?"

My face filled with blood, hot from embarrassment and arousal. My resolve ebbed even further, both tired of his little game and excited by it.

"Well," I responded with mock arrogance. "He would probably ask to join us."

"He sounds like an exciting fellow, though foolishly stupid for letting someone like me get a hold of you," he said, lifting me back up to his level, leading me somewhere. "Put your arms out, wrist up."

I did as I was told, giving myself over to who knows what. The feeling of the leather belt being tightened around my wrists stoked my desire, causing me to moan at the simple touch. Soon, my arms were lifted over my head. He had tied me to a tree branch some immeasurable distance above. I pulled against my bounds, testing their strength. "Oh, I do not think you will be going anywhere, my slutty little elf," he told me matter-of-factly. I shuddered from the wet kiss he planted under my ear. "Soon you'll want to be nowhere else."

_That's already true_, I thought to myself.

I kept still as his fingers clamped down on my nipples, tormenting them until they were rock hard under his touch. His lips suctioned around the left one, flicking it with his tongue. As he left kisses across my torso, I realized that my want to touch him had exponentially increased. His control over me was loathsome yet maddeningly erotic. My emotions followed the painful circle over and over; each feeling fed off the other. The spiral came to a halt, however, as a skilled hand started to stroke between my legs, drawing my attention to the new center of my being.

"Turn around for me," he commanded sweetly, pressing me against what had to have been the tree itself as I complied without question. I sank a canine into my bottom lip, suddenly feeling even more vulnerable. I became all too conscious of my imperfections, obsessing over a scar that ran down the small of my back, let alone the trail of old cuts down my left arm. He paid them no mind, however, as he ran his tongue down my spine, still pinching and pulling my nipples as he did so. His hands sank lower in a similar fashion, caressing each of my twists and turns in all of the ways I fondly remembered. He made me feel so dizzy with want that I was overjoyed to have something to lean against. My knees buckled beneath me as he lowered down to his own, marking my ass cheeks with his savage kisses.

"Oh, please," I begged; for what exactly I wasn't entirely sure.

"Please what? Stop?"

"No, don't stop," I managed to blurt out, letting him spread my legs further apart as I spoke.

"You have such a lovely ass--and an equally lovely cock. I think it would be an injustice to lavish one and not the other, yes?"

He pumped my member in his hand, playfully trickling his fingertips along the shaft. For a moment, his hands explored my nether regions; his breath raked against my skin. Before I fully realized it, his tongue was tracing circles on my left cheek. He sprinkled kisses, making me jump when the last kiss landed on the underside of my dick. I sucked air through my teeth, and he chuckled, turning his kiss into a swipe of his tongue. He drug it back, along the central vein and eventually over my scrotum.

If he had been anyone else, I wouldn't have welcomed his free fingers so warmly as they spread my ass apart, flicking his tongue at my opening. Before I was ready for it, he plunged his tongue inside, wriggling it as far as he could. Naturally, I moaned aloud, shaken by his sudden intrusion. He answered with a tight squeeze of his hand, which was finally able to embrace me at my fullest.

I already wanted to come; it had been so long since I had been intimate with another. For once, I wished that he wasn't as talented as he truly was. Nevertheless, I submitted to the idea that it was going to be a long night. It wasn't an idea that I was entirely unhappy about.

His warm mouth, wrapped around one of my testicles, snapped me out of my daydreaming. Even next to the fire, it made the rest of me feel chilly in comparison. I found myself blushing at all of the loud noises he made as he used me for his own amusement. One at a time, he exaggerated sucking them in and out of his mouth. He had always made a show of everything, especially sex. And since I couldn't see him, he was obviously going to make up for it with incessant slurping and other such wet sounds.

He sucked my prick against his teeth, keeping control of it with his lips. Again, he went over the top with the slurping, running his mouth along my length several times. After releasing me with a pop, he pulled my erection toward his face. And, after finagling himself into the correct position, he began to devour me with a cruel slowness.

"Mmm, Zevran," I mewled, feeling as though I were about to melt from the core outward.

"There you go again, confusing me for the wrong lover," he answered, catching his breath.

"Maybe you think you can fool me by denying me your face, but that tongue of yours betrays you," I attempted to say in the most arousing voice I could muster. He seemed quite pleased with my response.

Feigning sadness, he continued. "You are the clever one, as always, my Warden. It is as you say; 'tis I. Oh, but how can you blame me? I would be betraying myself if I didn't live up to my reputation, after all."

Though his talented tongue did help to give him away, on top of all of his other nuances, what truly whispered the truth to me was his life itself. Much like how an animal recognizes its master by smell instead of sight, the sensation of his blood energy next to mine was unmistakable where other senses could lead me astray. My own body sung, embraced by his essence at long last. The raw emotions were nearly too much to stand.

I barely could hear him as he continued spouting filthy, arousing things to me; his hand stroked methodically back and forth, hypnotizing me into giving my attention only to it. His voice and touch in time with one another were rhythmic and intoxicating, sapping my cares of anything other than my inevitable release.

"It feels good to have you in my hands again," I heard him say at last, tearing me from my thoughts. "And to taste you again," he added, acting on his words immediately afterwards.

For several minutes he remained silent, focusing totally on sucking me dry. Occasionally he would allow my cock to spring from his mouth, giving him the opportunity to drag his tongue up and over my balls and onto my asshole. He probed and stretched me, never quite sating my lust for something more to be violating me.

I began to feel as though I was about to burst and soak the tree that was holding up my nearly limp body. He was simply too perfect at hitting all of my buttons at all of the right times. My hips rolled, wanting him everywhere at once.

Sometime during the madness, he stood up, still pumping me in his hand. He turned me so that our noses nearly touched, and I felt his heavy breathing against my lips. Without even thinking that my actions would be used against me, I leaned out to kiss those lips; I was very much shaking in anticipation of their familiar texture. For a moment, I was surprised when he pulled away--hurt, even.

"Wanting a kiss from me, are we?" he questioned. I could just see the smug look on his face through my blindfold. "Just how badly do you want it from me?" Goosebumps popped up all over my right side as he whispered the question into my ear. Release was beginning to dance through my veins, and the ecstasy was getting the better of my judgment.

"Zevran," I growled, too irritated for words at that point. "Obviously quite a bit."

"Hmm, someone isn't playing fair. I was merely trying to ask you an easy question, yes? Oh, the next one will be much worse!"

Something told me that the next question would have come anyway, regardless of how I had behaved. "Just ask," I hissed, matching the rhythm of his hand with my pelvis.

"Because of your _insolence_, I would like to know which means more to you. I can kiss you, like you want, or I can make you come as soon as you wish. The choice is yours," he said with all seriousness, removing his touch from me altogether.

My physical and emotional desires clashed within me as I gnashed my teeth in thought. With him, there was always a right or a wrong answer. It was never simple to choose which he wanted. What I wanted was just as unclear. Instead of weighing my options, I blurted out the choice that was the most appealing at that exact moment.

"I want you to kiss me," I begged, honestly quite shocked with the answer I had chosen. My libido cursed me.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Zevran asked me, obviously skeptical, considering how engorged I was. I could feel him staring. "You can still change your mind. I can see how badly you're aching to have my lips sealed tight around you again---to feel that _friction_."

"Yes. I can make myself orgasm whenever I want. It's been over two years since I've kissed you," I answered, pouring my heart out.

Though I figured he would be merciful and at least give me what I wanted, I was proven wrong. He pecked me on the cheek, immediately pulling away. I was fuming.

"Well, I didn't tell you _where _I'd kiss you, did I? My poor Warden, always so easily tricked by nice words."

I sagged under my restraints, beginning to feel helpless and abused. I had chosen wrong, apparently.

Just before tears started brimming in my eyes, I felt his hands return to me, running down my enflamed skin. I sucked in a breath, anxious. He dropped to his knees, feverishly taking me into his mouth. I whimpered, completely overcome by a whirlwind of emotions and feelings. The sadness fused with euphoria, sending me spinning into a state that was bittersweet to say the least.

"Don't worry, my lover, you will get your kiss," he reassured me, taking only a moment to remove me before swallowing me again. He put his right hand to work, moving in time with his head, never leaving an inch of me uncovered. My orgasm didn't take long to build back up to its former glory; he wasted no time to be flashy, only efficient. All at once, I spilled into his mouth, gasping from the overwhelming sensation.

As I came back to my senses, I could think of nothing but being able to see his face. He always looked so beautiful with lines of come streaming down his chin.

After draining me, he stood, dragging his nails up my chest, drawing a shiver from me. He said nothing, grabbing onto a handful of my hair, pulling me to him none too gently. His mouth captured mine, and it took me a moment to realize that it was me mixing into our kiss. It felt dirty yet exciting, as most dirty things do. My hesitation to indulge in the sticky kiss quickly subsided; all I cared about was at last getting that kiss at all. Arousal was stirring in me again as his slippery lips slid across mine. My only regret was that my own taste polluted the flavor I had been hoping for.

Had I chosen correctly after all?

I expected him to follow the moment up with a sarcastic or snide remark, but he surprised me with the sound of him removing his dagger from its sheath. He cut me down from the tree branch, giving my arms a much needed rest. My wrists, however, remained bound by the belt.

"Get on your knees and suck me, slutty elf," he commanded; I heard him rustling with what I guessed was his pants. I lowered to the ground not quite as gracefully as I wanted, still dizzy from the afterglow. As my fingers found his boots amidst the earthy debris, my heart leapt. At last, I was going to be able to touch him. Giddily, I ran my hands up one of his legs until I found what I was looking for.

My fingertips grazed his cock, enjoying how soft it was to the touch. I leaned forward, kissing the head and licking off a droplet of fluid that had already formed at the tip. I continued licking, following the pattern of veins that I could remember shockingly well. He sighed, petting my hair, urging me to do more. I propped up his erection with my thumbs, flattening my hands against his stomach. I stretched my mouth over him, taking him in, inch by inch, and I didn't stop until my nose was pressed against my fingers.

He growled, tightening his grip in my hair, pulling me towards him further still. He rattled off a slew of foreign words, pulling away from me some. I had no idea what they were, but I judged that, by the blissful way he pronounced them, he meant them as some form of a compliment. His enthusiasm excited me further, and I felt my cheeks flushing in pleasure as he fucked my mouth.

"If only you could see how beautiful you look, bent over pleasuring me," he managed, collecting his linguistics at last. "Still, I can think of ways for you to look even lovelier..."

I kept up my pace, pretending to ignore him. At that current time, nothing sounded better than the sound of my lips sliding up and down on his shaft. He pulled me off of him by that same clump of hair, proving that I really had no say in the matter.

"Come this way," he asked rather nicely, stepping backwards. I crawled towards him on my hands and knees, feeling not entirely proud of myself. I was sure I looked ridiculous, particularly with my hands tied together, and it was easy to picture my tormentor smiling from pointed ear to pointed ear.

_What would the populous of Ferelden think if they saw me, their savior, like this? Crawling arse naked through dirt and grass at the whims of a foreign assassin?_ Oddly enough, the thought of the reactions of horrified, stunned citizens put an amused smile on my face.

My hands eventually felt cloth instead of bare ground. I ran them over it for a moment, grasping my surroundings. "Keep going," he said, impatient with me. Once I was entirely on the blanket, I stopped.

I nearly jumped out of my skin as I felt something fiery probing my rear end. "Don't worry," he laughed. "this is for you, after all." As I calmed my pounding heart, I realized that he was lubricating me with some warm, unidentifiable liquid. I had had no doubts that I would be on the receiving end that night, but at that point, my fate was sealed.

I pushed back into his hand, wanting more of those quick fingers. "Is this what you're wanting?" he asked, stretching the ring of muscle with two fingers.

"Not precisely," I answered, even though it was a question that was meant to be left unanswered.

"Oh? Are you feeling unsatisfied? Even after so kindly sucking you off?"

"Zevran, please, just fuck me," I spat. Once again, I was sure that I had dug myself into a deeper hole.

"So naughty!" he said, pretending to punish me by vigorously plunging his fingers up to the knuckles, grazing my prostate none too gently. As he finger fucked me, the lubricant spread, filling me with a strong heat and need to be filled with something more.

I felt empty when he pulled his hand away from me. I heard the clinking of glass, and I assumed that it was the bottle that held the hot fluid. I listened contently to the slick noise of his hand running over his own cock as I waited impatiently for its volume.

"Are you ready for me?" he pointlessly questioned, massaging my ass cheeks with the remnants of the liquid.

"Yes," I answered simply, arching into him and bracing myself.

A guttural moan escaped from my throat as he eased into me, slipping through without issue. He apparently agreed with me, letting more indistinguishable words fly. He pulled out a ways, thrusted back inside, and repeated the process, groaning with pleasure the entire time.

Zevran kept his pace slow, allowing his hands to roam all over my body. The ecstasy that it gave me was almost peaceful. It was unsettling, still, that he could be so rough one moment and then so gentle the next.

Then, with a cruel swiftness, he shattered the soft moment with a slap to my right ass cheek. I cried out, caught off guard to say the least. Tears rushed into my eyes, threatening to spill out and soak the blindfold. The second slap stung even more. Still, I caught myself arching into him, secretly hoping he would do it again. The third felt like fire, setting every nerve aflame; already my erection was full and smacking into my stomach with each of his thrusts.

"You horny thing!" he scoffed. "Already hard for me again!"

I fell to the ground with my cheek smashed into the blanket, letting my upper body brace me against him. He shifted to his feet to better suit our modified angle, keeping his hands on my hips without skipping a beat. It felt so animalistic, the way he was taking me, and in truth it made our setting seem much more suitable. He raked his nails up my back, drawing a pathetic moan from me.

"Mm, let us move on, shall we?" he said out of the blue, giving me one last smack. I expected him to pull out of me as he began to stand, but much to my surprise, my body went with him. With one arm around my waist, and the other with a firm grip on the underside of my thigh, he lifted me, somehow not breaking our link. He struggled only slightly, propping me up with an upward thrust. My hands hung awkwardly in front me, and I felt guilty not knowing how to help him. He took only a few steps before plopping down onto something.

I felt a little terrified, blind and not having control over my body. His warm lap and tight embrace soon alleviated that fear, however, and I stopped flailing my legs and relaxed my shoulders. I steadied myself on his knee, trying to find some place to dig my heels into. After realizing we were on a tree trunk, I found a few knots to brace my boots upon.

The steadiness didn't last. With the one arm still holding onto me, and the other I assumed being used as a stand, he continued drilling me. I leaned back against him, trusting in him not to let me go flying off.

As a reward of some kind, he began to stroke me furiously. I felt all of my blood rush into my prick, filling his hand even further. My body crashed around, and I could feel my own hair whipping me in the face after each snap of his hips.

"Feel as good as you remember?" he breathed into my ear, biting into the lobe.

I did my best to form a coherent response, but instead the words poured out with moans and meaningless sounds.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it as much as I," he added with all sincerity, continuing to nibble and lick at my ear. "Let's spin you around."

Somehow, after a few moments of manhandling me, he managed to swing me around so that our foreheads met, and I could feel his breath on my lips. I kept myself from kissing him but couldn't stop myself from voicing my desires.

"Zevran, please let me touch you," I pleaded, offering my bound wrists. I looked ridiculous, I'm sure, squirming on top of his throbbing cock. "I'll do anything," I added, deciding that it wouldn't hurt to throw out the offer.

"As you wish," he eventually answered, untangling the belt. "but I will remember that."

It was a relief in more ways than one, and I was nearly shaking from the happiness that was flooding me. I rubbed at my sore wrists and shook out my tired muscles before running my hands along his arms, feeling them feeling me. He softly rocked up and into me, allowing me to explore him at long last. Greedily, I grabbed at every inch of him, smoothing my fingers over his leather clothes. I found my way to his shoulders, twining my fingers into his hair, sifting through the silky strands.

"You've let your hair grow," I stated bluntly, surprised that I had said it out loud. "I'm sure it looks beautiful..."

"Ah ah ah," he threatened gently, catching onto my not so subtle attempt at sight. "For now, see me with those lovely hands."

I continued to play with his hair, pulling it against my face, absorbing the familiar scent that had taken so long to disappear from my blankets and clothing. It took me a moment to realize that he was fondling me again, so caught up was I.

I moved on to his face, cupping it with both of my hands. I could see him clearly in my mind's eye, and I grinned unashamedly as I traced his features with my fingertips. "Yes, they're still there," he whispered, catching on to the lines I drew down his left cheek. I thumbed at his plump lips, missing our previous kiss.

After sandwiching my thumbs between his mouth and my own, I waited for him to move my hands out of the way himself. He caught on and was generous for a change, capturing me in the kiss I was searching for. I could still taste myself on his tongue, and it made me feel that my last climax had been an eternity ago. Hugging him tight against me, I rocked my hips, struggling for some of the power.

"Down we go," he interrupted, softly placing us on the blanket. It was warm and inviting to lay on, basking in the fire for so long. I felt heavy and helpless beneath him as he lifted my legs over his shoulders, pulling me into a better position. I laid my arms back behind my head, allowing him to smooth his hands over me with those rough gloves.

Purposefully, I made as much noise as possible the closer he neared my raging hard on. He took me in a hand, stroking up and down lethargically. Lost in bliss, I found my own fingers winding through his hair again, searching for his braids but unable to find them.

My breath was ragged, and my lips were chapped from all of my pathetic panting. His thrusts into me became faster and heavier, and his pumping hand imitated the rhythm. I could feel the blood boiling in my cheeks; it was as if my skin was the meeting point between the physical fire next to me and the fire that burned inside of me. I was certain I'd melt beneath him, and I felt myself teetering on that edge.

His free hand surprised me, toying with my blindfold. My heart leapt, struck with the sudden realization that he was freeing my eyes.

I found myself staring at the hands that were gripped around his locks, nearly unconvinced that they were mine. All at once, my eyes flicked from one feature to another, trying to absorb the sight of his face. His lips were turned up into an honest smile, and he was staring at my eyes just as intently as I was staring at his. I was shattering, shaking under his weight, overcome with so many manners of stimulation, and I knew I was going to pop.

I couldn't have stopped myself if I had wanted to. I came for the second time, losing my sanity in those knowing eyes. Hot fluid splashed up to my rib cage, and he kept jerking me off until my moaning subsided.

He broke our stare, closing his eyes. With a primal ferocity, he grabbed me by the ankles and plowed into me with more force than I thought my raw body could take. I dug my nails into his biceps, returning him some of the pain he was giving me. Still, his face was beautiful, molded into a look of severe concentration. I focused on his shadowy figure, watching a droplet of sweat slide down his brow and his eyelashes kiss his cheeks.

"Alprize," he hissed, crashing into me without the grace he had possessed before. I felt him spill into me, but I was too ecstatic to hear my name come from his voice to really pay much attention. It wasn't something that happened often, even when we had been together every day for more than a year.

He shook and trembled above me, clutching my legs to him as though he'd fall upwards if he let go. From behind wild strands of blonde hair he peered down on me, dragging his eyes from my stained torso, up to my face, and back down again. His mouth remained still, but in his glassy eyes I could see him struggling with an inner thought that wanted free.

"I knew you'd come back for it," he told me, smirking. "Still such a hopeless romantic, I see." I found it humorous that he would mock my feelings as he lovingly stroked my thighs, unwilling to pull out of me just yet.

"You were waiting for me? You saw me drop it? So you witnessed me being ambushed and did nothing to help?" Most of my anger was for show, but it did sting nonetheless.

"Obviously there was no reason for me to help you. They hit you once, in their pathetic attempt of an ambush, and you obliterated them before I even had time to think on what to do. Also, I knew it would be wise to have someone else tire you out some, in case, you know, in case you were, well, still quite angry with me."

I glared at him, eventually shoving him off and away from me. I shivered, feeling his come seep out of me with a quickness, but I kept a straight face somehow. I held my arms around myself, partly out of the sudden vulnerability and partly because my body was sorely missing his heat.

"I was also exhausted, and if you had confronted me, even by accident, it would have undoubtedly made our reunion a very short one," he blurted out, standing and walking near his tent. He returned to me with a wet cloth. "Allow me."

I unlocked my quivering legs, though I tried not to invite him too readily. The sudden cold took my breath away, but it felt far more tolerable than gummy, drying bodily fluid. He gave the same attention to my stomach, cleaning off my own mess.

"Also," he continued. "I had been chasing you for weeks. I wanted our meeting to be a special one. We have so many memories of being together in battle; I wanted it to be just the two of us for a change."

I tried not to smile at his obvious frustration with admitting anything, speaking. "I'm surprised you can still recognize me," I chastised.

"Oh, don't be like that, my Grey Warden." He climbed over me, shadowing me. "Though you do look so cute when frustrated. You should have seen the look on your face, digging through mud puddles, _desperately searching. Adorable."_

As usual, I felt myself starting to fall apart from the overload of emotions. I swirled in an endless loop of happiness, sadness, humiliation, and pure anger. Tears were concentrating in the corners of my eyes, and I covered them with my arm to hide from him. Hiding from him was impossible, however. He knew me far too well.

"I'll admit," he went on, softening his tone. "Even I wasn't certain that you would come back for the earring had you noticed it had disappeared. To be honest, I was shocked that you were still wearing it." I felt him dig through his pocket and begin messing with the object that he had removed. I peaked out from under my forearm, watching him clean the little trinket with the wet cloth.

"You never have thought much of yourself," I told him earnestly, choking somewhat on my words. I breathed in heavily, concentrating to keep myself from crying.

"I actually think of myself quite often, in fact. That's what's always getting me into this kind of trouble." He chuckled, though I knew it was a front. Tenderly, he pushed my arm away from my face, exposing me to hazy vision and cloudy images. Even through the film of tears, I could see the gem sparkling in his fingers.

"This belongs to you," he said, tipping my face just enough so that he could slip the metal shaft through the hole in my ear. Most of my uneasiness went away with the 'click' that it made when he snapped the closure shut.

The moment reminded me all too well of the first time he had placed it there, piercing through my ear lobe at my insistent request to do so. Last time, his hands shook from fear of harming me instead of his own, uneasy emotions. I fondly reminisced, despite the pain and blood that had accompanied the act.

He gave me goose bumps, kissing my ear, capturing the stone between his teeth. Before I realized, my arms were tight around him, pulling him down onto me. He smeared at the tears on my face, hardly making a difference, and spread his affections to my neck and shoulders before finally returning to my lips.

I don't remember much between that moment and when I fell asleep; I could hardly keep my eyes open. His weight and warmth were too much comfort for my consciousness to bear. Needless to say, it was certainly the best I'd slept in an immeasurable amount of time.

***

I have more written, but I'm still going over it. If you have any interest at all, I should be posting more shortly. Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

To the four, kind people that left me a review on the first chapter, you have my sincerest thanks. I've felt very wary about posting this, and your words of encouragement have meant a lot. Not to mention that the good reviews fuel the muse. This chapter is fairly short, but the next one will be significantly longer.

***

When I awoke, it took my mind several seconds to realize what had happened and where I was. Perhaps it would have taken less time had I been staring up at trees, but instead I was staring at the roof of a tent. I should have woken up cold and shivering, not warm under blankets. For a moment, I wrestled with the notion that my experience had been a cruel dream.

As if on cue, a twinge of soreness spread through my bowels, and though it felt unpleasant, I was overjoyed to feel it. Similar pains were in my arms and legs, reminding me of my bound wrists and the blindfold that had deprived me of sight for far too long.

My reminiscing was cut short when I noted that my companion was not in the tent with me. I foolishly panicked, scrambling out of blankets and tearing open the flap of the tent.

"I'm still here," he stated the obvious, a little shocked by my interruption. He remained seated, unwilling to turn and look at me.

I breathed a lengthy sigh of relief, then awkwardly apologized for scaring him. I held my palm against my chest as though it would coerce my heart into calming down, lost on what to say to him next. Instead, I watched his silhouette and simply breathed. I had longed to be near him like this for what felt like ages, but I found myself curiously terrified of disturbing him.

It was nice to finally get a good look at him, at least, even if he was facing away. He seemed to be the same: sun kissed skin clad in worn leather. His hair hung loose, pouring down to his shoulder blades.

I messed with the jewel of my earring, fondly remembering the nimble fingers that placed it there. As I watched him, I realized that the unmerited adoration I had held for him was resurfacing through layers and layers of the resentment. In fact, I felt peaceful, allowing myself to be dazzled by the mellow light of the fire.

I stood, scooping blankets with me. As I neared him, I was stunned that I had mustered the nerve to move at all. I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, trying not to surprise him again.

He jerked slightly, rubbing at his face. "Ah, you were so quiet that I figured you had laid back down," he fumbled, scooting over to give me room that I really didn't need.

He wouldn't look at me, and this thought disturbed me. My heart was starting to sink in my chest again.

Upon closer inspection, I noticed that a faint trace of mist in his eyes was sparkling in the fire light. I leaned in close, kissing a bare spot on his neck, overwhelmed with the need to be against him. I smiled, feeling the vibrations in his throat as he moaned.

"Now that you've had your rest, I can do nothing to stop your insati--"

I pressed my hand over his mouth, kissing him on the point of his ear. "No more talking," I stated simply, amused at how he bit the insides of my fingers. "I can think of several, better ways for your mouth to be of use to me."

He was typical; involving sexuality in a conversation strangely set him at ease. I felt his muscles relax beneath me, and it encouraged me to slather him in more sloppy kisses.

I sank my teeth into his neck, returning the treatment he had done to my hand, and I was rewarded with more pleasant vibrations. I couldn't help but smile against him, feeling his tongue dragging up and down my fingers, occasionally trying to pry them apart.

I eventually let him go, though I allowed my hand to continue petting his face. Instead of taking advantage of his freedom, he merely sat there and enjoyed my light touches, eyes closed and mouth shut. I wasn't surprised by his enjoyment; it had probably---hopefully---been around two years since his last meaningful contact with another. The lump grew in my throat, but I found peace in the thought that no one else could see him so vulnerable and willing to trust. My heart swelled, convinced that he had come back to me for at least that reason.

His hand clasped mine, almost reassuringly, as though he had read my thoughts. He held it against his chest, expressing to me in actions what he had never been able to in proper words. He froze as though he was about to say something that required every ounce of his grit.

"You can tell me when we get back to the tower. I think it would be best if we didn't spoil this evening with words, don't you agree?" I insisted, twining my fingers through his. He exhaled, letting his thought go with his breath. "Come," I told him, standing, pulling him up with me.

Like some elegant, suave seducer, I led him back to our tent by the fingertips, well aware that I was no such thing in reality. Nevertheless, his eyes bored into me as though I were, and I shot him confident glances and smiles as I ghosted in my sheer blanket.

We ducked into the tent together, and I immediately let the fabric fall to the ground around me. I helped him out of his clothes, all the while kissing him ferociously. I inhaled his lips as though I hadn't eaten in days, and that wasn't far from the truth. My hunger for him far outweighed my lust for real sustenance, and I pushed away my personal needs to satisfy him.

He felt molten in my hands, letting me lead. I pawed at his heated flesh, venting my earlier deprivation, unable to touch enough of him.

Finally, I removed his boots, amused at his clumsy dance as I did so. I caught him off balance, pulling him down into the pile of blankets.

We landed awkwardly, tangled up in each others' limbs. For a moment we simply enjoyed one another's comfort and weight, at a loss for what to say or do. I strained to see him, only managing to see the highlights of his hair and the devious sparkle in his eyes. It was as good of a guess as any that he was struggling to do the same.

I wasn't sure who kissed who first, or if it had been a tied race. I knew only his touch, acting and reacting by instinct alone. Our kiss was slow and savory, far unlike our earlier behavior. Oddly enough, I was more relaxed than anything; my excitement still managed to burn low within me, however, listening to our wet noises and pleasant sighs.

With the tip of my finger, I traced his raised veins down his arm. Gently, I heated the blood beneath, waiting for a response. He quickly stilled, chuckling into our kiss. "Ah, yes, it seems you've regained some of your strength. Should I beg for mercy?" he asked, lazily continuing to grope my lips with his own as if he expected no response from me.

My fingers scratched down his torso, disturbing his life force beneath the skin, pulling it with me as I went. I felt his cock engorge even further as I tugged blood into it, massaging it in my hand.

"Oh, I've always had a love/hate relationship with these skills of yours," he groaned, obviously uncomfortable yet aroused. He fisted a handful of my hair, pulling, returning a portion of his pain. I refused to relent, however, not wanting to take it easy on him after his fine performance earlier. A grin cracked across my face as I reveled in his labored breathing and trembling body.

Unfortunately for me, Zevran took a lot of punishment before begging for any type of release, and I had no desire to push him to that limit. In fact, I wanted nothing more than a lazy session of satisfying, mutual lust. My body had sorely missed just his presence next to me. I had woken up many nights just like that one, groping at the sheets next to me only to find them cold and empty.

I flipped onto my other side, facing him, forming a familiar yin-yang. His blood ebbed back into his body as I released it, and I heard him gasp and felt him shudder. I didn't give him enough time to consider being irritated with me; my mouth closed over the head of his cock, and I immediately began pumping it with my hand. I circled my tongue around the swollen shaft, adoring the pulsations that spread through his veins.

I expected him to say something, but he surprised me by gorging himself on my prick, swallowing it down to the hilt. It was difficult not to bite down on him, overcome with the pleasure. I had fantasized far too often of his oral prowess during his absence, imagining how effortlessly he could devour all of me and still keep his eyes locked onto mine. I yearned for the eye contact, but contented myself with the knowledge that I would have it eventually.

He pulled me further against him, cupping my ass in his hand, shoving me down his throat. With forceful fingers digging into my hip, he shoved me away, giving himself time to breathe. He panted, sniffling, and I was sure that he had tears in his eyes.

Lovingly, I stroked up and down his body, hoping to express my appreciation in some way. I continued sucking him, trying to emulate his enthusiasm. His balls tightened up against him, and I pet them, urging him to come as soon as he wanted.

His skin became so hot that I was afraid it was my own doing, but I realized soon enough that it was his desire alone. It was startling how lost in thought I became while engrossed in pleasing him, and it was even more startling that my irresponsibility could indeed kill him. I disconnected myself fully from the magic part of my brain, focusing on my less civilized qualities. It had been so long...

After developing a certain rhythm with my head, my hips fell into one to match, slowly fucking his face. He did the same, and I allowed him to crash his pelvis into me like a wave. As our motions increased, so did our breathing and groaning, and I poured my soul into simply giving.

A hot jet rushed down my throat, and all of the memories that went along with its taste rushed through me as well. I swallowed it greedily, licking the remnants from him.

He held me deep in his throat, undoubtedly dying for air, shallowly jerking me in and out. His desperate moaning vibrated around my cock, sending me over the edge. He drained me, taking much more time than I had.

We laid there, panting, clutching each other's hips against us, basking in the afterglow. We didn't need to be face-to-face to feel connected.

Sleep was an ever threatening enemy, seducing me, and I found it increasingly difficult not to succumb to its offer. I felt my leaden body shift, and the warmth from my front dissipate. I vaguely remember searching for that lost heat, finding it eventually. It pressed against me, cradling me, kissing me, scooping me so close that I felt that I was inside of it. I heard it whisper something to me, but I didn't listen; I only felt. The warmth turned to numbness, and the lack of sensation was indeed one of the most comforting feelings that I had ever been consumed by.

***

Thanks for reading! Please review, whether it be positive or negative.


	3. Chapter 3

What's this? Faint traces of a plot? Don't worry---it doesn't last long.

***

"Found him, did you?" Petra asked, greeting the two of us at the front door of the Tower. I parted my lips, surprised somewhat at the realization that she wasn't talking to me personally.

"Eventually," Zevran answered, quite aware that she was addressing him. "I caught him taking some back road. Always the sneaky one, my Grey Warden. He would have made a fine assassin, if I may be so bold!"

"Welcome, First Enchanter Surana," she said rather flatly, averting her gaze.

"Petra," I answered, hardly stopping.

Zevran became uncharacteristically silent, quieted by the tension between the three of us. That disquiet was quickly interrupted. A stampede of my subordinates came rushing down the hall, including a few of the girls from the Tower's chantry.

"First Enchanter!" shouted one of the adolescent girls, out of breath. They all seemed to be breathless.

"What's all this?" I asked, smiling. I was indeed overjoyed to see them, but I forced myself to remain at least somewhat stoic.

"We saw--we saw you coming!" she answered, doubled over in exhaustion. "We-we raced all the way down the stairs!"

"Spying on me, eh?" I questioned, winking.

After a moment of exchanging pleasantries and answering ridiculous questions from some of the younger apprentices, I noticed that all of their eyes were placed somewhere to my right. I looked over to see Zevran, somewhat caught off guard by the situation.

"Ah, everyone! This is my friend Zevran," I announced to the small group in front me, placing a hand on his shoulder. "He was one of my companions during the Blight, so I expect everyone to treat him with the same amount of respect that you show me." A few 'nice to meet you's came out of the crowd, but for the most part everyone remained silent.

"No need for that," he said bluntly. "Demanding respect without earning it yourself first has always been against my nature. Now attention, on the other hand, oh, I can never get enough of that!"

Snorting under my breath, I surveyed the crowd for whatever reply they chose to give him. Unsurprisingly, a few of the girls' eyes gleamed like a wolf's, and I could practically feel the weight of the level of hormones in the room.

"My _friend_, I am famished; what do you do for eating around this establishment?" Zevran asked me flirtatiously, despite my warning for him to be on his best behavior.

"You both have just enough time for your bath before supper," Petra answered for me, urging the crowd to dissipate.

"Is there a room prepared for Zevran?" I inquired to no one in particular.

"Yes, ser," one of the wolf-eyed girls responded--a little too quickly. "There isn't any visitors right now, so all of the extra rooms are empty."

"May we escort him, ser?" her fellow wolf-eyed girl asked, half hiding behind her friend.

I held out my arm as if holding open a gate for Zevran to escape past. "I can't see any harm in it," I lied, waiting for him to go. As they walked down the hall, I heard him making the usual remarks about 'how lucky the other apprentice boys were to be trapped in a tower with such gorgeous women,' and I felt as though I were about to vomit all over the freshly waxed floor.

Without any sort of delay, I trudged up the stairs, trying to put them out of my mind and failing. I drew myself a bath and attempted to wash away my jealousy along with all of the grime I had acquired on the long walk home. After drying off, I cloaked myself in one of my favorite robes---for myself or for someone else I wasn't entirely sure.

I was one of the last to arrive in the dining hall, ending my bath a bit later than I had intended. My robes billowed behind me, giving me the regal, unapproachable aura that I had always imagined a person of my status having. Yet there I was, my exterior in no way mirroring my interior; the posture, grace, and sophisticated attire were all a lie to cover up my childish, helpless emotions. I made quite the racket of stomping down the hallways in my boots, emulating the pounding of my heart as I worried over what Zevran had been carrying on about during my absence.

He wasn't there, I noted immediately, half collapsing into my chair. As I glared at his empty seat, others nearby no doubt thought I had a severe distaste for the new, blue upholstery.

I scanned the room, noting that the two wolf-faced girls were also missing. Of course, the first image in my mind was of Zevran, sandwiched between them, grabbing as much of their bare flesh as he could at one time. Deep in thought, I caught myself chewing on the point of my fork rather uncouthly.

"Alprize," whispered Kinnon. "Are you feeling well? You seem more pale than usual... Perhaps we should get dinner started?" In a haze, I nodded, answering all of his questions in one slight movement.

"I was hoping to introduce Zevran before dinner started. Perhaps tomorrow, then." I notice Kinnon hesitate, unsure of whether or not I was talking to him or just myself.

"W-well, perhaps he got lost? This is a big place, after all," he chuckled awkwardly. Kinnon had been one of the few people to who I have spoken to about my personal problems, being one of the only original mages in the tower of my own age. At least, one of them who didn't despise me. He understood why I was a nervous wreck. "I can try to find him, if you like."

"I'm sure he got lost in something, but not in the tower," I answered, downing a glass of water. "Thank you, friend, but no thank you. He knows how to get here."

Much to my dismay, I was approached by yet another occupant of the Tower. She was a young initiate that I saw around regularly, and she seemed to be more content with my methods than most of the other priests. She hid behind a spray of daisies, obviously working up the nerve to speak to me.

"First Enchanter," she spoke in a small, mouse-like voice. "I've brought these to put in your table's vase. You deserve more than an undecorated table to come home to." She plucked the fluted vase from the table, daintily fixing the flowers within the glass. I watched her hands closely, noting that they trembled ever so slightly.

"Thank you, Sister. Daisies always have been my favorite," I told her gently, feeling my temper die down. "What is your name, exactly?"

"Antigone, ser. And yes, you've told me that they were your favorites before. That's why I brought them." She removed herself from the vase, nervously fixing her flax hair and chantry gown in the exact way she had arranged the flowers. Not once did she look me in the eye.

I cringed, realizing too late that she had told me her name several times before. It was difficult to keep up with all of names I had come across in my short life.

After a long, awkward moment without speaking, she eventually let her question spill from her mouth. "Where is your guest, ser?"

"You know just as well as I do," I replied snottily. I immediately regretted having the sharp tone of voice. Though she tripped over her words and shook, it seemed that I had been the true, poor conversationalist after all.

"Well, um, I suppose I'll be heading back to my own dining quarters now. Thank you for returning safely." She turned on her heels and sped away from me before I could properly say my farewells.

"Someone has an admirer," Kinnon joked, toying with the daisies. "She's not going to last long in the chantry, that's for sure, not with those hormones."

I chose to ignore him.

I finished my supper, happy to finally eat something that hadn't been sitting around in my pack. My grouchiness subsided somewhat once my basic needs were met. I stared at the pudding across from me, remembering that during my travel alone from Amaranthine I would have given anything for a mouth full of something so sweet. At that moment, I frowned at it, wanting nothing to do with the tempting dessert.

I set down my clean spoon and began to think of a path in conversation to get away from Kinnon. Not a moment after doing so, the two wolf-faced girls walked into the dining hall, tripping all over each other. Though I could have fine tuned my hearing to listen in on their conversation, I chose not to. I opted instead to leave the room, smiling a plastic smile to my colleagues before marching into the corridor.

I didn't know just where they had taken him, but that didn't matter. I could feel his presence, his life, his blood. It was impossible to describe how it felt to me; no blood magic texts had ever been able to put it into modern words since modern words shunned it so. In a rough way, you could call it smell or even taste of a morbid nature.

I chose a spectrum of adjectives to describe my Zevran; I had thought about it for hours upon hours, deciding the best way in which to remember. Often, I needed to sense something else before realizing that that object or feeling reminded me of his blood. He felt like many things to me, all of which I enjoyed. He felt like hot, shredded silk, running through me--like nearly sun burnt flesh---like that painful moment where you think you see someone you love, but quickly realize that they only resemble them, and you feel bittersweet agony gnawing at your heart strings. But most importantly, he felt to me like that moment just before a well needed but unwanted sleep---a moment so serene that you wish it could last the rest of your life.

I followed those teasing sensations up several flights of stairs, searching for where it felt the strongest. I let myself into his room, noting first that he was absent from the bedroom portion. With a pounding heart, I opened the bathroom door, not knowing what to expect.

My shoulders sagged, and a smile formed through my lips, reaching up to meet the tears in my eyes. I fell weakly to my knees, overcome with a silly emotion that I couldn't wrap my mind around. It was as if the realization that he had come back to me was hitting me for the first time, and I had no way of physically expressing myself. I held myself together, half laughing and half crying, gazing at him through puddles.

His nearly dry hair cascaded over the side of the stone tub; all of the water had already dripped off and was on the floor. He rested his head on his hands, trapping them between it and the tub's edge. His legs curled up to his chest, and I could see goose bumps forming on his skin as he slept. He was so far gone that he barely breathed, shallowly drawing in air in his slumber.

On hands and knees, I crawled over to him, pressing my lips against his. I dipped my hand into the water, shocked at how icy it was. He had to have been laying in there since I last saw him. I tapped into my will, heating it with raw energy.

He began to stir, groaning into our kiss. I backed away enough to get a look at him, and he took the time to squint at me with tired eyes, struggling to focus. "You got dressed rather fast," he commented with a stiff jaw. "Food yet?" he asked barbarically, spewing out words that may have at one point been a well structured question.

"You missed dinner," I told him, feeling guilty for not coming after him. "It seems that you've been up here for nearly two hours." I petted his tangled mass of hair, stroking down his stiff neck to his tense shoulders.

"Well that's disheartening to say the least," he sighed, attempting to straighten his back. I crinkled my nose somewhat at the unbearable sound of his crunching vertebrae.

Even though I had been gentle waking him, he seemed less than thrilled to see me. "Was your bath at least enjoyable?" I asked him, trying to soften the grimace on his face. I nervously played with the water between my fingers.

"Truth be told, I hadn't even made it to the bath part yet. If those girls hadn't talked my ear off all the way up those never ending stairs, I probably could have curled up on them and drifted off quite easily."

"Which, the stairs or the girls?" I chuckled against my sleeve, amused at the contempt in his eyes.

"Oh ho ho," he scoffed, hiking an eyebrow. "I thought I sensed a bit of a _malicious _attitude when we were downstairs. Afraid that they would whisk me away, were we? That they would seduce me with their cackling laughter and oh so subtle flirtations?"

"Well, it wasn't necessarily them I was worried about," I added, stung by his accuracy. Suddenly, I felt quite foolish.

"Pray tell me, is that why you waited this long to fetch me?" His eyes were wide and awake, and by his wicked smile I could tell he was feeling quite full of himself.

"I didn't want to interrupt--whatever it was you were doing." I averted his gaze, studying the ripples in the tub intently.

"Oh, my silly little elf, you are so cute when you're jealous and all flustered with me. Too frightened to look me in the eyes..." He cupped my jaw with one hand, drawing me back into our previous kiss. "And that pink on your cheeks and the points of your ears drives me mad," he continued, kissing the places he mentioned. I allowed him to dote over my embarrassment, reaping the benefits in the end.

"Warden," he said painfully, breaking away from me in a hurry.

"Hmm?" I asked, saddened by the absence of his lips.

"You're boiling me."

After a brief moment of deciphering his meaning, I snapped my hand out of the bath water. My cheeks blazed even brighter, and as I viewed my surroundings, I noticed that the mirrors were fogged and every surface in the room was slick with a film of condensation. "I'm so sorry," I apologized, crushing my hand with the other one as though it had been the wrong doer in this situation.

"You're also quite sexy when you let yourself get lost in the moment. It says something for me, at least." Underneath of his jesting, I knew that he was simply trying to help me forgive myself.

"Well, I suppose I should let you get back to finishing your bath. I'll find some leftovers for you and bring them up," I told him, standing. His hand snatched my wrist away from me before I could react.

"I'd prefer that you stay here," he said bluntly. "I've been looking forward to some hot food for days now. What's a few more minutes?"

I smiled on the inside, hoping he would say that. "Oh? And do what? Sit beside you and look pretty?"

"If that's what you wish to do, then sure, why not?"

"I can think of more productive things," I said, allowing my robes to fall to the floor.

"I like where this is going," he said, laying back to watch me remove the rest of my clothing. His eyes followed my every move, scanning me.

For the time being, I stole the leather strap that he used to keep his hair in the ponytail he had been sporting, tying it tight around my own locks. Gingerly, I stepped into the bath, alarmed at just how searing it was. It prickled and bit at my skin as I sat down, and I couldn't help but yelp as I submerged myself up to the ribs, wanting to curse as I did so. I found myself staring down into the water, shocked to still see the lower half of my body still intact. I bit my lower lip, forcing myself to get over the heat.

"Oh, don't use that one; it's not for hair," I told Zevran, who was looking through jars that sat on the tub's edge.

"There's a difference?" he asked with all seriousness, setting it back down, puzzled.

"Here," I spoke gently, choosing another jar, pouring a viscous liquid onto my hand. "Turn around, and I'll wash your hair for you. Gods knows it needs it."

He shocked me by complying, twisting himself so that he sat between my legs. I used an empty jar to dump water on his head before scrubbing the soap into his hair. He groaned, obviously adoring my nails digging into his scalp. I enjoyed it as much as he did, feeling the slippery strands of his long hair between my fingers.

I allowed his hair to stay the way it was for a moment, using the contents from his jar with a sponge. Throwing myself fully into my task, I scrubbed at his back hard enough to make up for the many months he had gone without me. I pushed aside the thought of someone else caring for him in a similar way, determined not to let jealousy get the better of me.

I motioned for him to raise up his arms, and he did so. With the sponge in hand, I worked my way up his arms, wrapping around him to wash his chest. He caught my arms with his own as I did so, squeezing me against him for a moment.

He soaked my left side, leaning his head against my shoulder, opening himself up to me further. I took advantage of the situation, scouring his thighs. I lessened the pressure, gently washing between his legs, forcing a gasp from him. After taking the time to tease him a little with my bare hands, I urged him to submerge himself and wash off all of the lather.

As he leaned back up, I couldn't help but admire the perfect sheet of his golden hair and how the water poured off of it so beautifully. I reached out to him, rubbing him softly with my fingertips, aware of how raw he was after enduring my expert use of the sponge.

"On all fours," I asked---well, told. He situated himself, taking my placement into consideration as he maneuvered in the small space.

Streams fell down his bare ass, slipping along the contours of his lower half. He stole a glance at me over his shoulder, saying all he needed to with only his eyes. Softly, I lathered all of the naked skin before me, taking every niche into account. With hands alone, I spread the soap between his cheeks and over his genitals, giving his already erect cock a few tugs before returning to his bottom. I slipped a finger inside of him easily with all of the soap, delighting in the familiar contours of his interior. Another finger joined it, twisting and prodding, trying to elicit pleasured gasps from him.

I filled and emptied the jar continuously over his cooling backside. At first, I did so just to get the soap off of him, but I went on several more times, driven by the moaning I was hearing from the other end of the bathtub.

Leaning forward, I trailed kisses over the hills and valleys, stopping to suck the water off of him at random. I treated his balls similarly, catching the droplets of near scalding water from them. I laid the flat of my tongue against him, dragging it straight up until it met his tail bone. I ventured back down, teasing his asshole with the tip, lining it in circles, probing. My ministrations didn't go unnoticed; I peeked long enough to see him biting his lip and gripping the bath's edge like a vice.

Caught up in the moment, I was taken aback when his free hand gripped my ponytail, pulling me forward. I didn't resist, not that I had much of a choice, allowing him to shake my face back and forth as though I were fervidly disagreeing with something.

"Why so gentle with me?" he questioned, jerking me around even harder, grinding me into him. "Oh, back to not answering questions are we?" He snickered, getting far too much enjoyment out of his bad jokes.

I raised my hand and then walloped him, striking his ass so hard that he was speechless. Even my hand stung, but it was worth it.

I drew in a sharp breath, glad to be able to breathe once again. Meanwhile, he was still unable to catch his own breath, his gasping turning into a giggle fit.

"That's more like it," he proclaimed, shaking his hips at me.

I struck his other ass cheek, over and over, until it was just as blazing red as its mirrored side. After rubbing the hurt out of them for a time, I pulled him back down to me, setting him on my legs.

I smiled, watching my prominent erection slide back and forth between his slippery cheeks under the surface of the water. He held onto the sides as I began to buck my hips up against him. He rocked in time with me, teasing me.

My libido eventually got the best of me, and I pulled him down and over, impaling him on my lap. It felt as though I would come instantly, but I forced myself to calm down. Between the overwhelming heat and the euphoria of being inside of my lover, I sincerely thought I was going to lose consciousness. My vision blurred, and I watched him dance on top of me, dominating our love making even as the receiver of said love. He wasn't shy about moaning and breathing, possibly going overboard with his display.

I managed to collect myself somewhat, and I began to meet his thrusts, penetrating him deeper and deeper. The water crashed against the walls, soaking the stone floor as I fucked him just as hard as he was fucking me, stretching him far and wide as I did so.

"Zevran," I whimpered, getting his attention. "Let's move to the bedroom." I slammed up into him one last time before pulling out.

"Sure?" he asked me, grinding all of his weight on my pelvis as though it would convince me to stay put. I smacked his ass playfully, pushing him. "Well, alright," he sighed, standing.

He bent down, unplugging the drain, giving me full view of his slender, elven body. Rivulets flowed down his calves, puddling at his feet; he wrung out his hair, twisting it with elegant fingers until it was merely damp. I stared unashamedly at his heaving chest and bobbing hard on, marveling at how the little streams complimented his winding veins. As he stepped out of the tub, my eyes couldn't leave the hand shaped welts on his backside.

I followed him, not bothering to skim off some of the water, immediately reclaiming him as my own. "Lay down on your stomach," I whispered into his ear, ordering him as nicely as anyone could have.

"Right here?" he asked, the excitement apparent in his tone of voice. I pushed down on his shoulders as an answer, watching him fall to his knees, then hands, then flat on the tile floor. Haphazardly, he spread out across my robes, clutching them in quivering fingers. He closed his eyes, and I could see a smile on his face that he was trying to hide.

In a similar way, I fell down around him, placing my palms and fingers within the boundaries of the hot pink love marks on his ass cheeks. He arched into my touch, raising his hips off of the floor.

"So beautiful," I remarked, unaware at first that I had said it aloud.

"You've already bedded---well, floored---me; no need for flattery at this point, my First Enchanter. Ooh, I do so love how that sounds!"

His laughter transformed into a low but quick gasp for air as I spread him apart, plunging inside of his hot depths. I wasted no time in finding a proper speed and intensity, reaming him apart from above. He absorbed each hit to its fullest, receiving no mercy from the solid rock I was plowing him into. I scraped my nails down his back, watching him writhe from the assault to his nerves.

"Mmm, I adore it when you treat me like I'm _your slutty little elf," he moaned, chewing on a stray strand of his hair. _

"Aren't you?" I asked between labored breaths, putting all of my energy and weight into what seemed like splitting him in half. I tangled my fingers into his hair, pulling him back by it, and I wasn't surprised to see the smile on his face get even wider. "I am," he replied, wincing.

I focused on the sounds in the room, and the closer I listened, the more excited I became. With each thrust, my wet hips slapped into his ass, knocking his front into a puddle that had formed beneath us. Without fail, his sighs or moans of ecstasy accompanied the splashing and sloshing, the nail scraping, the faucet dripping.

It hit me all at once; my body shook and trembled as I filled his empty vessel to the brim. I pulled out and flipped him into his back., surprised to see that he was still aroused.

His eyes were glazed, staring up at, and nearly through, me. I ignored the temptation to sit and stare, going down on him before I even realized what I was doing.

His hips bucked upwards, but I slammed them back into the puddle on the floor. He snickered, excited by my ferocity.

My hand twisted and pumped, mimicking the rotations of my head, enveloping him. Around me, his legs squeezed, making up for the movement I wouldn't allow his hips. Wanting to pleasure him as much as I could, I slipped a finger inside of him, taking advantage of the slipperiness I had left behind. His toes curled against my back, and his fingers did the same within my hair. Just as suddenly as it had taken me, orgasm took him as well.

Without warning, his hands were about my face, and he sat up, dragging me towards him. Before I had finished swallowing, his tongue invaded my lips, and he sucked me into another beautiful kiss. I opened one eye just enough to peek out at him. His brow was furrowed; his eyes were clamped shut. There was nothing insincere about the way he absorbed me into himself. His thumbs petted my cheek bones, but his palms remained glued to my face, refusing to let me go. My shoulders sagged, and at that moment, I felt that our kiss alone was enough to hold all of my weight.

And then, like an unwelcome visitor tapping at the bedroom door, a rumbling made itself heard from his stomach. I smiled warmly as our eyes met, amused.

"Here I thought that you were enough," he flattered, releasing me from his vice grip.

"I'm so sure of that," I commented, standing on wobbly feet. I untied the leather ribbon from my hair, handing it back to him.

His attention switched to the sopping clothes beneath us as I helped him up. "As saddening as it would be to have you parading around in nothing but your skin, I don't imagine that the other occupants of the Tower would appreciate it as much as I would," he told me, plucking my cloak from the floor. "Or, considering that welcome you were given at the gates, perhaps some of them would."

He dismissed his comment as a joke--his normal tactic--but I knew better. I also knew that with him it was best to leave his personal thoughts well alone. He reacted to mental prodding about as well as a cat to a cold shower. I chuckled to myself, picturing him shredding a drapery to tiny bits with claws that my imagination had added itself.

"Something that you're not telling me, my Grey Warden?" he asked with a smirk.

I pictured an irritated tail, streaming from his backside, flicking in irritation at the end. I waved him away, dismissing him. "There is an endless list of things I haven't yet told you about, if you must know." I certainly wasn't lying to him, but my ambiguous answer left him quiet. "Am I not allowed to laugh?"

"You have my permission to laugh, of course. I simply hoped to be let in on the joke that was no doubt drifting through your wicked little mind."

With the snap of my fingers, I siphoned the water, and other fluids, from our clothes and bodies, directing the stream into the empty bath tub. I took my robes from his hands, quite taken with the surprised look on his face.

"Why am I always so quick to forget these things?" he asked himself, scooping his own clothing from the floor.

***

My apologies for the sudden end---this chapter was ENTIRELY too long, so I broke it in two.

Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

***

I exited the bathroom, happy to be in dry clothes and off of the cold, sopping floor. I glanced over my shoulder, catching sight of him hopping across the floor, attempting to gracefully slide on his dragon skin boots. The smile on my face grew wider.

He caught up to me at the door that led to the corridor, and I snaked my arm around his before he had time to argue with me. Awkwardly, he allowed the display of affection to last, staying silent as we walked down the stairs.

"Would you mind putting on something more comfortable and less filthy? It seems a shame to scour you so and then wrap you in another animal," I mentioned as smoothly as possible, running my fingers up and down his arm.

"All of this comfortable living has made you soft. The Grey Warden that I knew wore the same clothes day in and day out and slept on dirt," he spat, and I expected to see the claws spring out of his gloves.

"It's your choice; it was just a suggestion. We're going by my bedroom, so if you change your mind on the way to the dining hall, well, it's still a possibility," I responded gently, letting my arm fall from his. I kept silent, suddenly feeling morose.

We neared my quarters, and I was taken aback by someone sitting by my door, leaning against the wall. "Artemis?" I inquired, rousing the visitor from some early stage of sleep.

"First Enchanter!" he spouted, scrambling to his feet. "Ser, I, uh, I missed our meeting earlier." The words fountained so quickly from his mouth, it took me a moment to understand what he was trying to tell me.

"Meeting?" I asked myself more than him, wondering.

"With the templars and priests. It was to be as soon as you arrived back to us from Amaranthine, but the others and I were kept out late due to some maleficar roaming about near the mountains. I'm dreadfully sorry." His fingers twiddled from nervousness far more than the situation called for.

"Oh, oh, yes, I remember now. Well, no harm done. I'd forgotten also. We can do it tomorrow," I added with the full intention of moving on, readying my feet to continue.

"Ser," he called out.

"Yes?"

"It's been chaos without you. I'm relieved to see you home safely," he spoke softly, pouring his heart into the soft words.

Before I could answer, I noticed his eyes flicker to Zevran for the first time. Had he just then realized we hadn't been alone?

"So, what I'd heard is true. You've returned with your blight companion. Pleasure." His posture stiffened to suit the plate armor that adorned him.

"Yes, this is Zevran," I answered, putting my hand on the other elf's back. "Word travels quickly in this place. It never ceases to amaze."

"So, Arty is it?" Zevran interjected, ignoring me entirely. "The First Enchanter has yet to mention you. In fact, he was just on his way to the dining hall, I believe. Perhaps you and I can get to know each other until he returns."

"It's Artemis, actually," he added far too late. He was already caught up in the cruel rapids that were Zevran's manipulative abilities. "But I think that I shoul--"

"Nonsense! I have yet to properly meet anyone. Come inside and help me choose something to wear. We'll think of something to discuss," he went on, twisting the knob of the door to allow himself inside.

Artemis looked back at me with a helpless look on his face, seeming to ask me to save him with his eyes.

"Better do as he says," I sighed. "I'll make it quick."

Shockingly, jealousy didn't overtake me. In fact, a sense of pride filled that space. Another man waiting for me had spurred Zevran into a state of protectiveness, though I was sure that I was the only one who would have been able to tell that.

I held the silver tray of food in my hands, gripping it so tight that my bones could have easily punctured the skin. What I was afraid of was the sight I would see upon returning to my bedroom. My fear wasn't what he would do but rather what he would say in my absence.

I knocked on my own bedroom door, feeling rather foolish at the thought of it. "Come in!" I heard Zevran reply as if the quarters were his own. With a deep breath, I did so.

"Is this how you wear this frilly thing?" he asked me, holding his hair up and out of the way. The templar's fingers fumbled, trying to fasten an intricate belt around Zevran's waist. He looked positively mortified, shaking from the experience of being alone with him.

"Well, sort of," I snorted, laughing under my breath at the sight of luxurious, emerald velvet draped over his arms and shoulders, covering him from shoulder to heel. His messy, damp hair and facial tattoos seemed so funny next to the out of character outfit. I set the tray down on the bed and returned my attention to them. "How did I know that I would be the one fixing this mess?" I kindly shooed Artemis away, replacing his hands with my own.

"Ah, that is much better. The metal of that armor is oh so _icy _against my skin," he whispered loudly, leaning back into me as I pulled and tied at different sections of the robes to put them in their proper places. "So rough! He was at least very gentle with me--much more of a gentleman than you."

"First Enchanter, I think I should go," Artemis more demanded than informed. "Once again, I'm glad that you've returned," he hesitantly restated, doing all he could to keep himself from immediately bolting to the door.

"Thank you, young man, for helping me get dressed," Zevran added flirtatiously. "'tis an experience I shall not soon forget."

Unsurprisingly, Artemis didn't turn around to respond, shutting the door behind him without looking back. With the click of the lock, he burst into uproarious laughter, squirming beneath my efforts to dress him.

I locked him in my arms, refusing to let him go. "You know," I told him sternly, pretending to scold him. "What you're wearing is my best dressing gown. It's probably worth more than many of the lives you've taken."

"Well, I do have good taste in beauty," he told me, bringing the blush to my cheeks. I kissed the back of his neck, drawing goose bumps to his skin.

"You didn't do anything to him while I was gone, did you?" I inquired suddenly.

"I am innocent; all I did was talk to him."

"Why does that not worry me less?" I asked, nibbling on his ear. "You don't have to be afraid of him, you know. He knows that I'm yours." I felt him stiffen at the sentence I whispered into his ear.

"If people know, why put me in a separate room?"

The realization to his cold attitude struck me. I was speechless for a moment, searching for the honest truth. "Because I figured that you'd want that," I answered with no lie to be found. "I didn't want to smother you and---" I paused, wary of my next words.

"---have me run off again," he finished, sounding dismal. I winced, unsure of how to respond. That was what I had been thinking subconsciously.

Instead of answering, I simply held him there in my arms, fighting back the tears that were swelling in my eyes.

"I didn't know that that was bothering you," I confessed. "If it makes a difference to you, will you stay together with me?"

"That sounds a bit more comfortable. This place is far too large and dreary. What if I had gotten frightened and rolled over to find no one sleeping next to me?" He smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

Somehow his lips sealed over mine; I hadn't even felt either of us move. It was strange to feel a kiss from him without a single bead of sexuality dripping from it. He removed himself from me as though he had noticed the same thing, striding over towards the bed.

"Oh, you know me so well," he said happily, lifting the plate with two, extra large slices of pie. He ignored the rest of the food I had brought him, barbarically shoving a piece into his mouth.

"Just don't get anything on my clothes," I asked nicely, plopping down on the other side of the bed, stretching.

"Oh, like you couldn't just wave your hands and make a stain disappear, _First Enchanter," he teased, not stopping to swallow. _

_I laid there in silence, happily watching him eat. The quiet of the room eventually got to him, and he turned to look at me suspiciously. He said nothing, but innocently extended the plate of food to me._

"_No, thank you," I told him, suddenly embarrassed that I had been caught staring at him. "You look like you need it." My eyes lingered on his waist, realizing how far up the notches I had had to go with the belts. It took some will power to keep from criticizing his lack of a proper diet. Nagging had never really worked with him. _

_Sleep was threatening me, and so I forced myself out of bed. I walked to the window, opening it and sitting down on the sill. I spent a lot of my free time there, gazing out at the expanse of forest where I occasionally wandered and even taught lessons---something that hadn't been allowed until my time over the Circle. _

_Before I entirely devoted my thoughts to the Circle, I heard the splashing of water and laughter of girls far below me. I peeked over the edge, curious. _

_It wasn't an unusual sight; I had seen the group of girls bathing in Lake Calenhad before, carrying on as though there wasn't a chance of someone seeing them. In the dim light, it was difficult to make out more than flashes of moonlight against bare legs and breasts. Some of them sounded familiar, but I couldn't place names to the disembodied voices. _

_Bittersweet memories distracted me as I watched them, clouding over the moment. I easily pictured my own, naked form, pressing some younger boy up against the rocks. Both of our bodies were being smacked up against it by relentless waves as we devoured one another's mouth. _

_It had been the night before my harrowing, and I had intended on making the best of what could have been my last few hours. The threat had spurred on my confessions of superficial attractions to him, and I was pleasantly surprised when he hadn't declined my invitation of misbehavior. We had barely begun to explore one another when a light shined upon us. He had dove under the water, while I foolishly stood in the spotlight, daring whoever had interrupted my moment of freedom. If it had been anyone other than First Enchanter Irving, I would have felt proud of my defiance. I could still recall the look of shock in his eyes, apparently just as disheartened that we had been who we were. _

"_Alprize, I hope my eyes are misleading me, but I daresay that they're not. Might I suggest that you get inside before the templars discover you and put you through the harrowing immediately?" he had warned, removing the light from my nakedness. _

"_Ser," I had simply answered, too overcome with embarrassment to relent in some way. My feelings for Irving had been too strong to do anything other than what he had wished. He could have punished me severely for leaving the Tower without permission but instead trusted me not to do it again. At the time, my heart sung at the realization. I seemed to live my life balancing on his every word. _

_In fact, I was the constant victim of ridicule for being something of his 'pet'. Jokes spread that if Irving threw himself off the Tower that I would too. _

_My devotion eventually got the better of me; no one would even talk to me, afraid that I would tell Irving every small, illegal thing they had done within the Tower walls. Nearly everyone but Jowan, in fact, and I had proven them right by rushing to Irving the second that he had confided in me. _

_It was my guilt over Jowan that had driven me to study blood magic and eventually embrace it as something not to be feared. In the end, my strength as a blood magus had helped me to defend my country and my friends, but I was still ashamed of it. I was an embarrassment to Jowan still. _

_The laughter and excited chatter of the girls in the lake no longer seemed pleasant, and some cruel part of me wanted to relive that memory through a First Enchanter's perspective. Deep down I wanted to punish them for the cruelty I had endured, but I resisted, shutting the window and pulling the curtain. _

_After the long duration of silence within my bedroom, I looked over to see Zevran sound asleep. He was still in my robes, and his empty tray laid on his stomach, heaving from his deep breaths. With his limbs in disarray over the entire bed, he simply slept, and I watched for a moment before extinguishing the light in the room. _

_I struggled within my own mind, swirling in guilt from so many of the things I had done in my life and from my unresolved problems both with Zevran and with myself. I held my head in my hands, allowing the tears to fall in the dark. _

_***_

_I have a thing for names from Greek myth, if you couldn't tell. _

_Also, as a side note---while writing these chapters I've found that listening to Iggy Pop and the Stooges is randomly a lot of fun, particularly off of his "Raw Power" album._

_Once again, please review. _


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